


Anchor

by Hereticality



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh! GX
Genre: Gen or Pre-Slash, Introspection, M/M, Season/Series 02 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-09-09
Updated: 2013-09-09
Packaged: 2017-12-26 03:23:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,146
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/961006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hereticality/pseuds/Hereticality
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the aftermath of the battle, Saiou gets some rest, and Edo gets lost in thought and makes promises he won’t keep.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Anchor

Even with a helicopter, the nearest hospital is about two hours away from the Academy.

Juudai assured he’s fine and he’d just hop off near the dorms, but the Principal - still patched up in first aid bandages when they land to pick him up - stops him mid-leap and insists he comes with them and gets a check-up anyway, and of course his two friends follow him. The Prince and his assistant, instead, bid a rather hasty goodbye and hurry to their own private plane.

While the students explain to a dumbfounded Samejima how they’ve just heroically rid the world of the evil alien Light, Saiou and Mizuchi are reunited.

Edo is witness to the moment and watches them clasp hands and stand still for a quiet moment, looking at each other, bright-eyed with joy and relief. Edo stands, supporting Saiou not to let Mizuchi bear his whole weight, and tries hard to get into that feeling, leech off it, but there is a cold hole in his chest that just burns, like nitrogen, and he’s getting desperate. 

He was so used to have anger weighting there, bitter and bloodthirsty like a starving wolf, that now he feels weightless, unanchored, ready to float away from the Earth’s surface, from reality. _Maybe it's just a bit of PTSD, that's all,_ he tells himself, repeatedly, _I did almost die, after all._

Arranging themselves in the helicopter’s awkwardly disposed seats, they sit in two rows facing each other. He helps Saiou move, easing him down into a seat and immediately sitting next to him, pressed close from shoulder to hip, his body a warm solid line against his own.

Samejima's students have finished their duel recall, so he nods and goes sit behind the pilots, cradling his injured head; Kenzan and Shou can scuttle over to Juudai’s seat and the three instantly engage in discussion; one that Edo can’t follow because he’s not been their friend for long enough, that doesn’t interest Mizuchi in the slightest, and that is not going to keep Saiou awake, for sure.

Edo lets his gaze wander out the window, on the clouds in the evening sky, his mind counting doubles to disguise what he’s sure is going to be guilt. After a while, though, he becomes aware of the sudden quiet. 

Turning his head from the window, he sees the three idiots soundly asleep, nestled together in two seats. He looks at Saiou, who is definitely nodding off, and brings an arm around him to pull him down on his shoulder, without a word. Saiou lifts drowsy violet eyes to him, alarm peeking through the daze.

«I'll make you uncomfortable,» he says in that gentle voice he's missed so much.

«It’s nothing,» he replies immediately, talking to him for the first time after the duel and his apology. Angling his body to nestle his head on Edo’s shoulder, Saiou thanks him again, in a weak whisper.

They barely touched for years, both a bit awkward with it for different reasons, and now Edo feels like he can’t move an inch, least his friend disappears again while he’s not looking, not keeping him there. Saiou, two intense duels in a row and many sleepless nights finally taking a toll on his fragile human body, sleeps soundly and his breath is warm and tangible through the fabric of his jacket.

His mind wandering away again, Edo thinks about everything he has experienced during the last few hours: all the shock, despair, relief, fear, acceptance. Now he’s sure he should be at peace, he has always imagined he’d be at peace. But he’s not, not even close.

His arm starts to go numb from the weight of Saiou's head, discomfort pulling him from his reverie. With Saiou's right earring also poking a hole in his shoulder, he’s uncomfortable just as predicted. Irked by the irony, he resolves to endure in silence.

Saiou can’t be comfortable either, Edo tells himself, as  _his_  shoulder would be the perfect height for Edo to doze on, but not the other way around: to reach Edo’s he had to slide his body forward, his knees almost touching the facing seat, and crane his neck at an angle that looks quite painful. But he’s probably too tired to care, Edo thinks with a sigh.

He’s soon proved wrong, because after a bit Saiou awakes with a small jolt as his head slides down Edo’s chest, and he ends up lying sideways on his lap. Edo feels a tension run through Saiou's body for a few moments, then he turns his head slowly to look up at him.

«I’m sorry,» he says, his voice already strained. «I’m trying to get up but I can’t… did I make your arm go numb?»

«Just a bit,» Edo answers gently.

In a mildly uncoordinated gesture, Saiou brings up a hand to remove his earrings. The ear and cheek that were pressed against Edo are all red and marked with his jacket’s texture, his eyes a bit watery from sleep. Edo wants to hook into that physicality and never let go again.

«Turn around, so that you're facing me,» he says. Eyeing the awkward angle of his legs, he nips his protest in the bud, «everyone is asleep, just put your legs up and lie down.»

They both throw a glance at Mizuchi to see if she’s watching them fumble, but she seems to be asleep too, sitting still and quiet across from them with her arms in her wide sleeves, the very picture of tranquility.

Saiou does as he’s told, slowly turning and putting his legs up: they still dangle out of the seats from the knee down, but he nevertheless manages to curl into a comfortable position.

«You are aware that I’m practically using you as a cushion,» he says in a meek, self-conscious tone, talking into Edo's chest.

«Go to sleep,» Edo replies, wrapping his right arm around him and giving a light squeeze for an answer.

Saiou breathes out and goes limp, all tension melting away from him, instantly asleep. Edo smiles to himself, listening to his breathing get progressively deeper, until a soft sound leaves his parted lips with each intake of air. He did that sleeping-spell thing, Edo remembers, just like cats do when they feel safe. For some reason, that Saiou could fall asleep in his arms feeling safe is a thought with claws that pierce his heart.

_He is here,_ Edo thinks, trying to sync his breathing with Saiou’s to control it _, we got him back, he’s here now._ There is a rustling in his chest, and his hands start to move to fight his mind away from the uneasy feeling. 

He gathers Saiou’s hair and twists it in a loose rope, draping it onto his other knee to stop it from brushing his shoes and tangling. Then he moves up to Saiou’s forehead, where the two decorative gems are placed, and lifts them with his index nail; they leave two reddened spots on the skin, nothing permanent. Edo has no idea why, but a sudden wave of relief floods him: Saiou is almost the same now, apart from those white clothes. 

His cheeks, that have been sunken in for months, are again as smooth as he remembered them. He lets a finger ghost over the gentle curve, and Saiou’s breath tickles his pad as he sighs in his sleep. He seems happy to be touched, nuzzling lightly against his palm and drawing his curled hands a bit closer to his face.

_And there I thought I had boys_ , DD used to say when they napped close to each other on the couch as children, so many lifetimes ago,  _there are only two stray cats here, who brought them in?_ Edo has a sudden epiphany of the utter rudeness of this, especially to Saiou. He had always been too polite to tell people to go fuck themselves when it was due. 

_Well,_  he thinks,  _I guess he’ll never tell him._

Something snaps in Edo, and he has to bring a hand up to his stinging nose. His other hand stills on Saiou’s head, fingers sliding in his hair to keep a grasp on reality, and he looks around in mild panic hoping no one is looking as his throat clenches and his eyes fill with tears.

That’s it, it’s all over. There is literally  _nothing more_. His life – his heroic, fast, success-filled life – has build up to this moment and now it’s all over and he failed it. 

He failed the most important thing he needed to do, he failed his  _destiny_. Is it even possible for a man to fail his own destiny? He _did_ avenge his father, _allowed his trapped soul to pass over_ , protected the world from Bloo-D, met his best friend on a spiritual plane and talked over things they hadn’t touched for years. 

He knows in the world's eyes he'd be a hero. 

Not in his heart, though, not anymore. He knows very well that without Juudai there, without _‘the boy who could change destiny’_ , everything would have been for nothing. The entire world would have been destroyed, and he’s so not used to be given opportunities and blowing them that his chest feels like it's going to collapse with anger and disappointment.

Not only was he unable to win, he also almost gave the key willingly, he almost gave in to the entity wearing Saiou’s face, using their most precious memories for its sick schemes. For the Light, the young man asleep in his lap, with all his unfortunate gifts and brilliant mind and precociously grey hair, was nothing more than a vessel soon to be discarded. And even fighting tooth and nail against his own weakness, Edo had allowed the Light to triumph over him, over them both. In the end, he was not the one Saiou needed.

As far as inconspicuous crying goes, he thinks he’s pretty well set. His breathing is a bit hitched but nothing too evident, and he’s sure his nose is not going to run. But nothing slips past Mizuchi’s watch and he feels her keen eyes on him, sixteen years old prodigy crying with a hand in her brother’s hair, but she asks nothing. When she speaks, her voice is barely audible as to not wake the others.

«Please, don’t lose him again,» she says, looking right through him with her bright thoughtful eyes, so ancient in her youthful face, so much like Saiou’s. «He needs you, Edo.»

He looks at her, kind voice and stern set of lips, entrusting her brother to him once more. Edo doesn’t know if he’s grateful or if he hates her for it, her trust punching him hard in this moment of self-doubt; all the same, he swallows the lump in his throat, determined to answer in a firm voice.

«I won’t,» he says, surprising himself a bit, lowering his blurry gaze on his sleeping friend and gently resting his arm on his shoulder. «I’m going to take care of him.»

Saiou stirs, perhaps reacting to the touch or to his voice, but he doesn’t wake up. Instead his right hand shifts to grab a fold of Edo’s jacket. It’s a small gesture, slow, Edo knows he does that when he sleeps, but it feels like a confirmation. That he’s still the same, finally himself again, that they lost battles and allies and powers but not each other, that Edo needs him too.

He is not an hero, or maybe he wasn't one this time. Maybe it's part of his destiny. He shall never know, as Saiou won’t be able to tell him from now on. 

He’ll need help to cope with the loss of his powers and everything he went through, he’ll need his protection and Edo won’t leave him alone in a world that now holds this many secrets. 

Edo swears to himself of never getting caught up in work so much as not noticing the alarming changes that had taken place, those signs he ought to have recognised at the time. He’ll be true to his word to Mizuchi, he’ll take care of his friend.

He averts his eyes from Mizuchi’s and dabs at his face with his sleeve without rubbing, so it won’t look like he cried. Edo leans his head against the metallic window frame, letting the cold seep into his skull; he’s still not at peace, but he figures it may take a while.

In the meantime, while he metaphorically clings to him by gently smoothing his hair, he lets the hand grasping his duel-rumpled clothing steady him, keep him firmly anchored to the unbalanced planet they live on, the planet he helped save.

When they land and he puts his head out to breathe, the hole in his chest lets the fresh air in.


End file.
